


A Natural Reaction

by CharbroilLaFlamme



Series: Bioshock: Measurement of A Father [5]
Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BioShock References, BioShock Spoilers, Blood and Injury, Children, Evidence, Gen, Guilt, Hitting a child, Implied Murder, Kidnapping, Mild Language, Moral Dilemmas, Murder, Orphanage, Rapture (BioShock), References to Canon, References to Child Abuse, Spoilers, Stanley does a bad, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15492765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharbroilLaFlamme/pseuds/CharbroilLaFlamme
Summary: Stanley recounts memories regarding a different little girl.





	A Natural Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Warning!: A child is hit in this part so be warned!  
> * I think I finally have it to a point where I’m happy with it!

Stanley cast his eyes to his work bag, the contents of it were several news clippings, notebooks, pens, photographs...

Tons of dirt on plenty of people—well known Janes and Joes—that he could release whenever he wanted.

His own personal ace in the hole if things got too rocky for him. He was nearly _untouchable_.

But still he felt something crawling up from the pit of his heart. Something painful and human.

“Because of _me_ , people are losing their literal _minds_ , Sinclair, Topside—turning into those big musclebound freaks a’ nature.” _Was it worth it, Stanley? Was it really worth it just for a story?_

Stanley leaned on the sink as a few thoughts began to manifest themselves.

“Chrissakes...” he mumbled, slowly recognising his prior discomfort as guilt. “Sinclair got chosen for conversion... _who woulda thought_...” he rubbed his chin, across his patch of stubble. “I didn’t—I didn’t think a news-story like that would end up being... well, the _end_ of him.”

He took in a long breath as he picked up a washcloth, he dabbed his upper lip with it. “But I s’pose it _does_ deal with the evidence angle of it. Guy like Sinclair, wouldn’t let this one go. S’long as nobody gets the bright idea to tell him _after_ conversion.”

He went back to examining his visage in the reflection, now unsullied by blood. But still bruising.

“Wasn’t really pretty, but all-in-all, I’d say I did a pretty good job. I didn’t come out completely scot-free, though. Sinclair’s got a punch on him like a kick from a kangaroo, _Jaysus_.” He examined the black-and-blue bridge of his nose.

Sinclair had never been known to strike anyone.

Well, lucky him, he got the shiner to prove how violent Sinclair was—how quick he is to lash out, unprovoked. Well, at least that’s what everyone else would know.

Clearly, Sinclair was beginning to lose it, no businessman worth his weight in gold could still respect himself and stoop so low.

And Stanley could finally drop the act around Sinclair—that cocksure, smirking entrepreneur could finally lose his empire and livelihood after using him.

Stanley contended with it, like the blood running from his nose, recollections followed.

There he was, questioning his morals, in his bathroom, cleaning dried blood from under his nose.

But his mind didn’t rest after coming to this strange form of peace.

“Yeah. _Yeah_ , it was worth it.” He said, smiling halfway. “Sure, a few others got... _ahh_... ‘caught up’ in the crossfire—win a few, lose a few, y’know.” He shrugged, absolving himself of his own selfish wrongdoings.

“But stories are _built_ on that kinda risk. So what if a little blood gets lost along the way?” He splashed his face with water. “Ain’t too much different from Ryan getting people axed just ‘cause they said something that he didn’t like.”

He found his thoughts turn to the little girls again. Who knew what fate had in store for them?

Sure, he could have just as easily taken care of them the old fashioned way—but the concept made his skin crawl.

Of course, he wasn’t without his regrets. Incidents may occur. Some with some truly tasteless solutions.

He didn’t think he’d ever have to, in his life, hit a child—let alone solve a problem through it.

In fact, he was absolutely horrified at the concept of child abuse.

But it was so... _spur of the moment_. He didn’t _mean_ to do it. It wasn’t his fault. It just sort of _happened_.

Maybe she shouldn’t have _made_ him hit her...

 

* * *

  

He remembered Marina, by all means an innocent bystander—who had only stumbled upon Stanley’s business.

She had to go. And he liked to think he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

He had grabbed her arm, trying to talk to her, tell her _anything_ that’d stop her from spilling that he had taken Eleanor away. Saying _anything_  he could that’d divert her attention.

Well, _none_ of it worked—and Marina _screamed_ for help.

And Stanley _lost_ it—raising his hand to her. A natural reaction—to _him_ , at least. 

She didn’t scream again—actually, she didn’t make a sound for a while.

Stanley had only briefly realised what he had done when he looked at little Marina. The blank slate of an expression, a betrayed look in her eye.

Stanley heard something in the back of his mind scream that _this was bad_.

_Very, very bad._

He watched her take in a deep breath and that breath was converted into an honest-to-God _shriek_.

Stanley thought as fast as he could and covered her mouth as that scream began to escape. “Alright, _kid_...” he hissed.

She looked up at him after her voice was cut short.

Stanley loomed over her—almost predator-like. Framed by what little light was available in the area.

Like those arms she had seen descend from the sky in _Journey to The Surface_.

And his eyes weren’t right. Wide, exhausted-looking. This man was a creature in the wild that could kill her.

And she wanted to run, but his hand was crushing her little wrist. Even her pulling didn’t even seem to change a thing.

She was helpless and alone. The side of her face still stung.

Far too close to her, his thin hand clasped firmly over the lower half of her face, he spoke again.

“If you try to scream like that again, I will _give_ you something to scream about.” For a moment, she thought he had smiled—a crooked, smarmy grin. “Good little girls _listen_ to adults. And _this_ adult says you know things that good little girls like _you_ shouldn’t know.”

Stanley’d had his plans set in place to do what he had done to Eleanor:

Sell the girl off to the orphanage—to keep her fucking trap shut.

And strangely, the thought of it had become much easier to handle.

Selling Eleanor had broken that threshold already—and hitting Marina had broken a different one.

A threshold Stanley didn’t realise he’d ever have to break.

Now instead of last ditch, it was now for the sake of necessity.

Well, Stanley realised he had done a lot out of necessity lately.

And he had one final set of loose ends to tie.

_The girl’s family could come looking, right?_

_Well, let’s make sure they_ don’t.

 

* * *

 

It had been blocked away from the rest of his memories—sequestered. Quarantined.

And it was with honest pride that he could say this was all part of the plan.

A few odds and ends had to be dealt with.

And _were_ dealt with.

It was a good, clean endeavour.

“I _had_ to do it,” he said to no one in particular, as he thumbed his swollen, still-hurting nose in complete awe. He laughed dryly at himself. “They really did know a little too much about it.” He looked at the mirror, into his bloodshot eyes.

“Good job, Stanley.” He breathed, unable to drop his smile. “You did it and you did it clean.”

Of course, he did start to falter as he began to sink to reality.

Stanley was completely alone in his moment of glory, satisfaction without an audience. “You _really_ did it.”

**Author's Note:**

> notes!:
> 
> — Marina now has a story that conveniently ties in with Sinclair’s story. She was really supposed to be a throwaway character but I love her too much.
> 
> — Yeah, so Stanley killed Marina’s parents—how he did it is up to ya’ll! (He wouldn’t be brave enough to do it face-to-face, though)
> 
> — This Stanley is extra fun to write.
> 
> — I played around with making her story somewhat parallel to Eleanor’s story. Where Eleanor was pretty easy to cover up (her mother being in Persephone at the time), Stanley had to axe Marina’s parents off.
> 
> — I wanted Stanley to be the type of abuser (I use the term “abuser” loosely) who wasn’t necessarily aware of what constitutes abuse. He does what saves his skin and has little regard of others caught up in the matter.


End file.
